Feeling Again
by sinking815
Summary: My stomach flip-flops every time I have to profess my undying love for a boy who deserves much better than me.  I vaguely wonder if his devotion would be destroyed if he knew what I am doing right now.  Gale/Katniss, a touch Peeta/Katniss. AU Oneshot.


_Feeling Again_  
><em>Sinking815<em>  
><em>December 12<em>_th__, 2011_

_A/N: A darker look at the Gale/Katniss/Peeta triangle. Mainly Gale/Katniss but with a little Peeta/Katniss at the end. Rated M for mature themes. As always, reviews appreciated._

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><p>I just needed a moment for me. Away from the cameras and the questions. Away from the gawking stares and compounding lies. The "I love hims" and "I love yous" are just stale sentences that die unconvincingly on my tongue. Something completely unreal. My stomach flip-flops every time I have to profess my undying love for a boy who deserves much better than me. I vaguely wonder if his devotion would be destroyed if he knew what I am doing right now.<p>

My errant thoughts are redirected by fervent kisses on my neck, provoking hands sliding slowly up my side. The roughened tips of his fingers graze along my Capitol-smoothed skin, and I moan, arching toward his touch. I am greedy with want and impatient to feel something other than emptiness.

"Shhh," he scolds, though I feel his smile as he presses his mouth against my temple and cheek. His breath is warm, close. His hands slow, just inches from their target. My eyes flash open and up to an eerily similar reflection. Turbulent gray and fiery ash. His eyebrows raise, his mouth turning at the corner in an arrogant smirk. "Or I'll stop."

I bite my lip in frustration and grind my hips against him once out of spite. He swallows a sound in the back of his throat and now I smile back, tauntingly. My heart pounds inside my chest as he leans closer and closer. Then he stops, hovering, his beautiful eyes roaming my face, searching.

I've seen that look once before. Several months ago, in the forest. It was early fall and District 12 was in the midst of a radiant Indian summer. Maybe it was the sudden resurgence of heat – though I suspect it was the pressures of returning home a Victor and being showered with unending attention – but I was crazed and desperate for an escape. My feet, seeming to act on their own accord, took me to the woods, directly to our meeting place.

By the time I arrived, my face was streaked with tears of frustration and anger. I almost didn't see him sitting there, contemplatively sharpening wooden arrow tips, but I was so relieved to bury myself in his comforting embrace when he stood and wrapped his strong arms around me. Minutes passed as I cried and screamed against the injustice of it all. He said nothing, just rocked me back and forth, pressing gentle kisses in my hair. When I started to pull away, embarrassed to meet his eyes, his hand found my chin, tipping my head up to his. His grey eyes were soft and questioning, as if he were afraid that the girl in his arms would suddenly disappear and vanish if he spoke too soon or moved too quick.

My eyes darted from his watchful gaze to the slight parting of his lips and back… And then I was kissing him. Arms locked around his neck, mouth pressing hard to his. He hesitated only an instant before returning my ambush. His hands pulled my body flush against him, his fingers finding the skin at the line of my pants. The intimate contact made my breath hitch and my head spin, and I was sure I was falling through his fierce hold on me, a heady sense of vertigo pulling me down, when I collapsed with him to the ground. I barely had time to process this before he swiftly rolled me to my back.

Keeping his face close, he stopped kissing me. Our breathing was so harsh it sounded out of place mingling with the gentle sounds of the warm afternoon woods. When he shifted to softly brush the hair from my face, I became acutely aware of how his body was cradled in mine. Legs splayed on either side of his waist. Solid weight holding me beneath him. My cheeks burned and my heart rate ratcheted up about ten notches when his smoldering grey eyes met mine, searching, wondering, asking.

I didn't have to ask to know what questions were racing through his mind. They were the same ones racing through my head as well.

The deep shuddering breath I took to calm my nerves betrayed my nervousness. But something clicked into place inside, and I reclined further, pulling him with me.

Gale taught me how to love that day. I say love because Gale didn't take me against a wall as is standard with random District 12 hookups. He moved gently, slowly, guiding my hands, working my body beneath his. He was playing with fire, stoking the flames between us, building them into an inferno that consumed us in a blaze of passion and deceit. I say love because I feel alive out here beyond the jurisdiction of the Capitol and all their folly. I say love because I am sure that when I stare at my best friend, I am capable of feeling again.

He's asking permission just like he does every time we meet out here undercover of the forest. I can't even recall the number of trysts we've had since that first and I am slightly aggravated that he insists on asking. I've never said no.

I raise my head, just teasing my mouth across his, light enough to touch but not enough to actually kiss him the way he wants. Leaning back, I draw him down with me, only crushing his lips with mine when my head falls back against the blanket spread over the uneven forest floor. He shifts his weight, supporting most of it on his right arm, as he releases my mouth and sets a frantic pace of wet kisses along my neck. His other hand roves beneath my tunic, sending tendrils of fire dancing over my skin. I squirm under him and he groans whenever I push my body against him.

His control is slipping with my forwardness. He pulls me up, relaxing back on his knees and stripping his shirt and then reaching for mine. I raise my arms to oblige him. The second he takes to appreciate my exposed body I use to push him back, my hands working viciously at his pants, my mouth fighting once again with his. He nips my lower lip in retribution for my assault and for a moment, I worry for the scarred skin of his back moving against the rough bark of the elm we're using for support. I stop worrying when he dips his fingers into my pants and grin as he feels my want.

Slowly, I press my lips to his bare chest, right over his heart, and I kiss up to his pounding pulse in his neck. I can see he remembers the same gesture he did for me, when I was uncertain and a little scared the first time we blurred the line of our friendship. His dark eyes follow me as I stand and slip out of the rest of my clothes, tossing them aside before settling back over him. They almost go black with desire when my skin meets his.

His hips left and I feel him shove his pants down as far as he can with me straddling his stomach and him pinned to the ground, growling in frustration when he can't quite finish the job. I reach back as if to help but brush against him lightly before taking him with one hand.

"Katniss…" he begs, long and low.

I release him, lean forward and whisper, "Shhh… or I'll stop."

I know I am pressing my luck teasing him like this, so I'm really not surprised when he flips us, reversing our roles. The bite of the elm into my back makes me hiss, a hiss that dissolves into his name when he slides in. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, there are still ears around to hear things that shouldn't be heard. When I open my eyes, he's watching me with a mixture of smugness and wonder. And then he moves.

The bark is rough on my back, and sometimes I feel a stab of pain, but mainly all I feel is Gale between my legs and his solid body against mine. My palms are slick on his broad shoulders; I'm losing purchase, the elm biting angrily each time I lose my grip. Gale's moving faster, harder and I'm somewhere between crying out in pain and crying out with pleasure, when we slip sideways and I'm back beneath him, lying on the blanket.

We hold gazes for as long as we can, I watch a future we won't have in his eyes, before I shatter. I want to yell but my breath has been stolen and all I can do is hold on as Gale follows me over the edge. I kiss his forehead, licking the salt from my lips, as he shudders once, twice, before opening his eyes. I can feel the tears at the corners of my own and one escapes, my hand too late to swipe it away. The anguish in Gale's eyes almost dissolves me.

I don't know how he does it, but he moves us so I'm sitting in his lap, inhaling the deep smells of cedar and smoke and something intrinsically Gale, as the tears stream down my cheeks. He kisses my hair and strokes my back soothingly, because the worst part isn't the fear of being found out. It's having to leave and return to our numb existences on the safe side of the fence that breaks me down.

I pull away when I manage to rile up some courage to face the inevitable, and Gale brings a hand to my cheek, his thumb brushing away the last of my tears. His eyes dart from mine to his hand and I watch them widen in horror. There's blood on his fingers.

"Oh my god, Katniss!" He takes in my broken skin, reaching for the canteen of water we filled at the lake. It's cold on my back and I imagine it should sting, but I'm already retreating to Seam mode. Gale's muttering apologies over and over and I snap suddenly at him.

"Don't, Gale!" I say, and he sits back, stunned at my sharpness. "Don't you ever apologize for making me feel again!"

I reach for my tunic, ramming my arms angrily through the sleeves and pulling my head through the neckline. We dress silently, and I wish I could stop this flow of anger in my veins. I know I'm ruining this moment but anger is much easier to deal with than the pain.

Gale loops an arm over my shoulders, pulling me close as we walk back to the fence. In the falling darkness, he is bold enough to keep the contact, probably longer than is wise, only reluctantly dropping his arm at the fence.

The walk to his house is not far from there and this time feels shorter than most. I want to lean in for one more hug, to feel his solid strength against me for a few more seconds. The Peacekeeper that walks by makes me turn my head in what I hope does not look like shame.

"Next Sunday?" Gale asks, and I look back. His eyes dance with sadness and longing. I know mine reflect the same emotions.

"Next Sunday," I say.

He manages a small smile, and turns to his front door.

"Gale," I say, just before he disappears. He looks up, and I press the three fingers of my left hand to my lips and hold them out. He does the same and finally, our hands both fall to our sides, as he's gone.

When I get back to the Victor's Village, I hang up my coat and listen to the sounds of the quiet house. A light is on in the living room, and I hear Prim laugh lightly, her musical sound bringing a smile to face despite my gloominess. I take my boots and do my best to tread lightly up the stairs. Thinking everyone's downstairs, I leave the bathroom door ajar and change out of my hunting clothes to a nightshirt and leggings. Before I slide the nightshirt on, I turn and study my ravaged back. There are bruises on my shoulders and deep cuts that zigzag across my skin. When I reach a hand back to touch them, I do not feel anything. It's almost as if Cinna put them there with his palette of makeup for some stunning visual effect.

I slide my nightshirt on over my bra and reach up to shut off the light, when I notice someone standing in the door frame. I start, gasping and clutching the counter.

"Peeta!" I say.

It only takes one look in his gentle blue eyes for me to know he saw the marks on my back. I want the sadness of his gaze to cut me viciously, like the bark of that elm, but I'm back in Seam mode. And I don't feel at all.

_~Fin_


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